


Shaky Hands

by KatAnni



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: 01 shaky hands, Gen, Shaky Hands, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, no 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 10:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20851955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatAnni/pseuds/KatAnni
Summary: Estel has trouble stitching up his friend. No wonder, as it's a scary situation indeed as well as one of his first times ever doing it.





	Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to take part in Whumptober this year! Let's see how long I last. This is fresh out of my brain so no editing done. Hope you still like it!!  
(I might edit and tweak this later!!)

"I'll be fine, Estel." 

"Don't just say that. You're literally bleeding o-"

"I am not. It's not that bad."

"I have your blood on my hands right this second, Legolas. Shut up and let me concentrate. I am trying to save your life here."

"Uhu." there was a short second of silence where Legolas actually let him work on his wound. Then: 

"Your hands are shaking." it wasn't a question, really, more like a quiet, astonished statement. 

"Oh Eru, I can't imagine why!" Estel didn't exactly try for sarcasm, but his voice still dripped of it. 

"Why?" and that made him look up. Because Legolas was honestly asking, honestly curious and honestly didn't seem to understand why his hands were shaking. 

"Because I'm scared!" Estel blurted out, breathing in and out slowly. Needle and threat, needle and threat, just stitch it closed, it'll be fine-

"Of what?" Legolas looked around. The orcs were all dead. That surprise attack hadn't lasted long, as his elf companion had taken care of them fairly quickly. Estel had wanted to show off his training a little, the bits that he had with his brothers over the last few years, but it didn't even come to that. Still, somehow, the elf managed to get himself stabbed. And, in addition to that, just proceeded to pull the damn knife out before Estel could say anything. 

"Of you dying, of course!" he was so exasperated now that he was easily distracted by Legolas apparent obviousness to the source of his distress. The elf hesitated for a second, blinked as if struck silent, then a warm smile spread over his face. Maybe it wasn't until now that Estel realized how seldomly his smiles actually made him radiate with warmth somehow. As if he glowed brighter for a second there. 

"I am not dying, my sweet Estel. Trust me when I say that I have had far worse." without a second of hesitation, Legolas stretched forward, didn't even flinch when it moved his wound, took the needle and thread from Estel's hands with such a stable grip that Estel could only stare before he was even realizing what happened. 

"What-"

"If you do it with those shaking hands you'll only make it worse." Legolas said. The smile didn't leave his face as he started to put the thread through the needle like an expert sewer on his everyday work, then proceeded to patch up his own wound. 

"But-" Estel began. This what what he'd trained for with his father. He knew how to do this! But he was immediately interrupted again.

"Besides, if I did die, I would just join my mother in Mandos' halls and later the undying lands. It would not be the terrible fate your mind makes it out to be." he finished that sentence as if the discussion was over now. This time, it was Estel's turn to blink and process. Sometimes he forgot how harsh life in Mirkwood was. He forgot or didn't quite process in his young mind how this stitching up and this train of thought was a daily routine for Legolas. That in his mind, the day of his death could be any day, really, and so this hunting trip, as part of his vacation, had not been one he would have thought it completely impossible to happen at.

"But I would miss you." he said, bluntly. The needle held still for a second. "And Elrohir, and Elladan would. _And_ Ada. And _your_ Ada most of all! Oh and Galion, I'm sure, and-" his counting of people on his hands was almost drowned out by the light chuckle that came from Legolas. He had stopped stitching, because he was indeed finished, and had started to bind the wound. To a later, older Estel, all this would be seen as amateur work, as not very neat and tidy and certainly needing redoing when they got back to Imladris. But to the Estel in this second, on this day as his 13 year old self, he thought it was so impressive that he could only stare at it for a few seconds. Then he looked back up when Legolas spoke again. There was a kind of sadness there, in his face, for some reason, but a smile nonetheless. 

"I thank you for those kind, reassuring words, my friend." he grabbed the tree behind him, which rustled its leaves as he used it for support to get to his feet slowly. Estel had long gotten used to trees behaving strangely around his friend, so he did not question it. "If I do have a choice in the matter, I shall not leave you to be bored by your Noldo relatives, then." the grin on his face eluded to the joke behind his words, but Estel got the true meaning behind them. Still, he grinned as well now, moving to his friend's side to support him in walking back towards Imladris. 

"Well, poetry night certainly would suck without you." he mused, putting a mock finger to his chin. "But I bet my brothers would enjoy being the best in archery again." this earned a loud laugh from Legolas, who grabbed his injured middle while walking and shook his head.

"I bet. I still remember their faces when I first beat them in a match. I think Lord Glorfindel will never let them hear the end of it." 

"Probably." Estel grinned. "Just like Ada won't let you hear the end of it for coming home injured -again!" he pointed out.

This only earned him a groan from the elf as his blue eyes rolled to the heavens.

"Ai, Elbereth. Don't remind me." 


End file.
